Not-eating and binging

Last night and first thing this morning I planned what I would eat this day and I planned it around a binge. After working out various scenarios in my head I decided on: no breakfast, no lunch, binge at 4pm, no dinner, no breakfast tomorrow, no lunch tomorrow then start eating again with dinner tomorrow.

I wanted to go into town and go to the pound shop to buy binge food. When I was there several weeks ago I saw good binge food. I slept until about a quarter to two which was part of the plan to avoid eating earlier. Then I got up, medicated the ratties, did some laundry, waxed my face (what a fucking palava) and got the recycling ready. Then I left.

I couldn’t believe how easy it was and I felt really calm. I decided I was going to do such-and-such next and then off I went and did it. Just calm and pleasant.

I walked to the recycling point and sorted that out. Then I bought a bottle of diet coke from the newsagent and started drinking that. I was hoping that drinking something fizzy would help me throw up. The first pound shop I went to wasn’t the one I was originally thinking of but it was good to look round and I’m glad I know where it is now. I remember enjoying the music on my ipod as I walked round. I bought a plastic box with a lid for the bathroom and two packets of biscuits. I started to feel I was spending too much time staring at the different biscuits as I was trying to choose something that I would like and would be easy to throw up. I keep remembering a post I read saying that pop tarts would be like lead in your stomach and bread-like things are hard to throw up.

Next I went to pound shop further along. I bought a plastic tray for the seedlings tray and a packet of apple puff things that I wasn’t sure about at all. Again, I was feeling paranoid about standing in front of the shelf being unable to decide what to buy. I thought about going to M&S but that would be amazingly hard and triggering. I would half expect myself to start binging in the supermarket pulling things off the shelves straight into my mouth.

I didn’t feel I had bought enough from the two pound shops so I went into Greggs which was a few doors away. I bought four cream-filled doughnuts and was pleased how cheap they were. It wasn’t until I had walked about ten minutes up the road that I realised I didn’t have any way of knowing how many calories were in the fucking things. I thought about not eating them (ha ha).

As I was walking home I realised that my head hadn’t been that calm and quiet in ages. No relentless inner voices or intrusive thoughts or whatever the term is. There were gaps between my thoughts. It was like taking diazepam.

When I got home I thought about not having the binge especially since I was running about an hour behind schedule and was worried that J would be home soon. But I just kept on with the plan. Took the bin out, hung up the rattie laundry and put on another load. Once the food was out on the kitchen table the craving and want started anyway. It takes your breath away.

diet coke = 3

12 apple puffs = 1254

4 cream-filled doughnuts = 912 (estimate from web search)

total = 2169

The apple puffs were really good and satisfying. I do this thing where I stuff lots into my mouth which seems to satisfy something. The doughnuts were foul. I think they were stale and perhaps the cream was off.

I put another bin liner into the waste-paper bin and sat on the toilet in the main bathroom. I made myself gag a couple of times with the table spoon then again a couple of times with my fingers. Then I knelt on the floor with the waste-paper bin in front of me. I spat up a little water on the first gag but that was it. My vision went funny like I was in a cloud of midges and my eyes and nose watered but I couldn’t make myself be sick. I guess I didn’t try hard enough and wasn’t desperate enough. I gave up.

I haven’t eaten anything since though I’ve had three cups of tea with semi-skimmed milk. I told J that I had food poisoning from the rice salad, made with left-over rice, we had two days ago. He said I should really eat something and I said I would have some soup but we were doing different things this evening so he didn’t notice that I never got around to it.

I had more energy and motivation this evening that I’ve had for weeks. I did the dishes. I finished the laundry. I sorted out the vet beds and got the smaller cage put away. I made J dinner. I sewed buttons onto J’s coat. I cleaned out the rat cage on my own and washed the box and the rat carrier. I tidied up the bedroom after the rats’ run.

I do kind of know that this will be a fucking disaster and I will regret starting this up again. The same way I regret having anything to do with disordered eating behaviour in the first place (I think). I thought of being completely honest with B, my psychologist, and saying what I’m doing but I guess she will think that if I continue with disordered eating then it undermines the treatment of all my other problems. Maybe she would even refuse to continue seeing me if I didn’t at least try to recover. I can’t remember if she was the one who once mentioned ‘contracts’ about self-harm or suicidal thoughts but I think that was F the nurse.

The space in my head is so amazing. I really want to have that. I suppose other people would say there are better ways but I don’t know them.